Infernal Drabbleation
by Angel Gidget
Summary: Unrelated drabbles and one-shots primarily focussed on Tessa, Jem, and Will. 11. Jem's attempts to get Tessa alone do not always align with Church's plans to receive attention (which, in turn, do not align with Will's plans to maintain his sanity.)
1. Blind Man's Bluff

**01. Game **

At first, Will wants to yell at his parabatai that he's doing it wrong.

The idea behind Blind Man's Bluff is that you are supposed to make it difficult for the gray-eyed shapeshifter to find you behind her blindfold. You are supposed to speak softly. Mimic others. Not talk abnormally loudly and often.

Will remembers back to a moment ago when he was the one in the blindfold, fumbling toward a familiar and nattering voice, grabbing the edges of (too soft) cloth and shouting "Henry" only to be confronted with feminine laughter a moment later, as he whipped off the cloth to the sight of Henry in a dress transforming back into Tessa.

He'd declared her the new "Blind Man" on account of cheating.

But now he wishes he hadn't.

Because something about the scene before him silences him completely.

Because Jem is cheating too.

"Blind man—" Tessa calls out once more.

"Bluff," replies Jem. Normal voice. No whisper. No disguise.

And the smile that comes on Tessa's lips, beneath her hidden eyes, makes Will's breath catch.

But what grips him even more is the look on Jem's face.

The way his teeth sink into his own bottom lip and the way his eyes focus. The way his voice is relaxed, and his body tensed.

Will has never seen his brother like this, radiating a desire to be touched.

He can see Tessa inhale as her hand hovers an inch above Jem's chest, and he can see Jem hold his breath with her.

There is no repetition of "Blind man" or "Bluff", only a succint "Jem," and Tessa says it with joy and assurity.

As she calls his parabatai's half-hearted bluff, Will wonders at the harsh truth of it all.

How he could have been so blind.


	2. What Waves Can't Provide

**A/N:** Some friends on Tumblr claimed a mermaid! TID AU was too cracky to pull off. I set out to prove them wrong.

Will hates himself. HATES himself for doing it.

But Jem is doing it too.

It's only a moment when they glance at each other as they never have before, just an instant when they look at each other as one may look upon a rival, each sizing the other up.

Will swishes his tail. He's always been terribly proud of his tail, the red scales at his stomach that shift to blue by the end of his fins. And the slow fade of indigo hues in-between that match his eyes. It's one of his best features alongside his scathing sarcasm. He can't believe he's about to lose it. Humans have legs, not hued tails.

It's always contrasted with Jem's silvery gray monochrome fins. That's Jem for you. A calm silver all over. Inside and out. At least, until the day they saw the Lady Tessa's ship sail over their stormy corner of the Ocean.

Jem hasn't been calm since. He's been anxious to to see the sweet human girl again, same as Will. Anxious and impatient.

Magnus says that Jem's hair and eyes won't stay silver when he transforms. Humans don't have silver hair in their youth like that. It will probably be black, and his eyes too. Apparently, humans with Jem's facial structure tend to have black hair. Will can't picture it.

The sea-warlock taps his fingers impatiently.

"So? It's decided? You two are going to pool your money and pay me? It's five-thousand clams. I've done enough free-work for you in the past, Will. This IS a discount."

Will grits his teeth. Jem nods. It is agreed, then.

"No matter what she decides…" Jem whispers.

"No matter who she chooses, " Will agrees, "We go as brothers and will abide by her decision. Any choice is better than Mortmain."

It's the longing in his brother's eyes that cuts him to the quick. They remember it as one.

The storm, the shipwreck. A human girl in bundled skirts, tossed by the wind off the port bow, landing directly onto Will. Jem grabbed her. They both carried her. Laid her prone long-legged body on a flat rock jutting from the waves.

Will had almost wondered if she was dead as she slept through the storm, but Jem kept his fingers at her wrist, insisting that all was not in vain. She slept through the raging tempest. And rays of the sun warmed her. In her sleep, she kicked off her boots, and both mermen found themselves rather wondering at her human toes.

"It must drive them crazy, having to always balance on two stiff legs like that," Will theorized, "Must constantly distract them, cut their brain power in half. Just watch. For all her pretty face, she'll wake up and be an idiot."

Jem snorted, "Like that octo-warlock who always beats you at chess?"

"He cheats!" Will protested, "He's got magic and it's a stupid human game anyway. Probably invented by ducks, originally. Besides, I doubt he actually keeps track of all those limbs. A couple could probably wonder off and he'd never notice."

But Jem wasn't listening. He was watching her. Her eyelids were blinking, and Will found himself similarly entranced. Gray eyes, reflecting the sunrise. But then she turned her blinking face, and frowned at him, groaning a moment, before licking her lips—pretty lips, not too full, just right—and finding her voice:

"Perhaps you have just the one tail, because it's already more than your brain can handle."

Jem's unguarded laughter rang in his ears and Will felt his face turn red.

Her name was Tessa, and she wasn't an idiot. She read books. A lot of books. And as the three of them waited for a ship from her land to come searching for her, she would tell them stories from her books.

Will, in turn, would fetch his favorite sea-scrolls and tell her fish-tales about the monsters of the deep. When her eyebrow twitched and her lips grimaced—like when Will saw fit to go into graphic detail of how the human victims were torn limb from leggy limb—Jem would interrupt, and sing for her.

Will had always loved the beauty of his brother's music, but Tessa seemed to inspire something more from it. Where there was once a certain sadness in the refrain, one look from her would drive Jem to replace it with an upraised passion.

And when her lips became chapped and her stomach growled, it was Jem who found the oysters for her to eat.

As the sun beat down on her, Tessa slowly shed more and more of that tattered cloth human females insisted on wearing so much. Both mermen tensed in fascination at finally getting a clear look at her two very human legs.

She had blushed—Will didn't entirely understand it—perhaps her legs were not beautiful by human standards? He couldn't be sure—they weren't a tail—but they looked… enticing enough to his eye. They were long. Identically shaped. The curves of them resembling bows—those human weapons that Jem favored so… Jem mentioned the similarity. That was how Will knew Jem liked Tessa's legs. Will decided he liked them too. Tessa merely blushed again, but tried to return the compliment.

"Um, you both have lovely tails."

Will had simply nodded, but Jem had blushed in return. So few people complimented him on his single-colored gray tail. But she genuinely liked it. Said it was beautiful. That it caught the light like a flickering candle.

Whatever a candle was.

As the days passed, she swam a little with them. She was an awkward and clumsy thing in the water, but she never minded them guiding her. Them touching her. But she had to resurface quickly. Always. And where Will forgot the capacity of her frail earth-bound lungs, Jem thankfully remembered.

It hurt, sometimes, to see her gasp and strain after being under for too long. But she needed to swim. She needed to move. Humans were not made to be trapped on small rocks, even if they couldn't have the freedom of the sea.

As she grew more restless, more overheated, more dehydrated—horrible, horrible irony that humans could not drink of the sea, it made Will want to rage at the unfairness—she grew weaker.

Jem refused to leave her. For he and Will had ventured far from home to see the storm, and now they dared not return to their cove until they knew their human companion's fate. They could find no more oysters. No oysters similarly meant no liquid that could sustain her. Will wanted to swim out further find something else—but it was not simply starvation. It was sickness. Nothing an ocean-dweller could comprehend.

She continued to fade. Her witty remarks dried up with her throat. Her shining gray eyes grew heavy with exhaustion. Her smile gave way to despair.

_Oh, gods… please don't let her die._

With one mind, they'd reached for the rock and pulled themselves up. It was strange, trying to wiggle their way onto the rock, each laying their tails beside her legs. But as they curled up on the sun-heated crag, with Tessa between them, something felt inherently right about it. Jem put his arms about her. Will hovered over her, shading her eyes from the brightness of the sky as he laid his hand over her stomach. It cooled her a bit, and Will wondered at the fact that human or merfolk, their skin felt much the same.

Somehow, she found her voice for them then. Talked of her brother, of her kingdom. Her ship had been bound for her betrothed's home. For Lord Nate had decided that the Duke of Mortmain would be a befitting husband, securing magical ties for their less-than-resourceful land. Tessa hadn't wanted to marry so soon. She'd hoped to travel more, before taking the voyage that would tie her to a stranger's bed forever.

"So marry one of us instead," Will joked.

"We're magical and resourceful," Jem joined in, "And while we are not dukes, we are princes. Small ones, but still…"

"And we like adventures. Especially ones with monsters."

"But we would never let them hurt you."

She had smiled. She was too tired to laugh, but oh! How she smiled… and clutched at them so tightly, it surprised Will how much strength she had left in her body to do it.

Will wanted to cry, but knew better. For if he cried, Jem would have to comfort them all. And Jem was close to tears himself. Better to not cry, and all be on the verge of sobbing.

As her eyes fluttered closed, Will felt her hand graze his shoulder. It was a silent farewell and it made him want to scream. Jem had laid his cheek against her chest, keeping watch over the rhythm of her heart. Her other hand tangled in his silver hair, dry for the first time. Jem closed his own eyes tightly.

It was only then at the ship appeared over the horizon. It bore her brother's colors, and while Will and Jem had worked so quickly, so desperately, to grab the sailors attention and help her aboard…

"She'll be fine, " said the ship's medic.

And it was all they had to go on as they watched the great floating human thing take her away.

They must have sat on that rock in silence for hours before the sun went down.

They went home. But could not bear it. Will's scrolls had lost all their lure. Jem's songs had become painful dirges. Inevitably, they were drawn back to the rock.

Again and again.

Untill finally, a pigeon landed, with a tiny scroll attached to its leg.

She was alive. Thinking of them. And her wreck and her illness had delayed the wedding.

A snap of Magnus's fingers draws Will back to the present.

"I—yes. Agreed. We both pay you. We will appeal to her brother as alternative suitors. She will choose one of us, and all will be well."

Jem nods.

The spell begins.

It wraps around him, fills his nose and gills and lungs, and he cannot breathe. Will knows that this must be what Tessa felt when she waited too long to surface because he wants to gasp as she did, to force his lung to work. This is drowning. But it is warm. And it wraps around his tail before cutting into it like a knife. He feels his body split as his tail divides evenly, reshaping and forming…

When the time comes, Will shall tell Jem of his plan, his foolhardy plan that involves madness. The madness of saying drown-it-all to Tessa's human limitations, her villainous brother's demand that she wed a man of magic and produce heirs like some common sea-cow.

Once they've been on the surface world a while, when he has more resources, he will tell Jem what he REALLY wants.

All of them, together. One with the sea, and far away from all hurt, all pain, all monsters.

They will find her. But they won't play by her brother's rules.

They are going to bring her home.

- f.i.n.-


	3. Ashes & Paper

Prompt: Ashes

He finds her by the ashes of the fireplace, with her hand wrapped by Sophie's careful ministrations and Henry's special salve.

She's worried about Will. He may not know the details, but Jem can tell that much. It's… it's both an ache and a relief in the same moment. He's spent years of his life hoping, enduring, and believing in Will and being so alone in that. And now finally someone else sees the good in his parabatai too.

But Will hurts people. Because he cannot help himself and Jem is sorry that his new fiance has taken on the pain that comes with accepting them both. For to take one is, to some extent, to take the other.

So he takes her burnt hand between his own and kisses it, chancing a glance at her face, watching the sad frown become a sad smile.

In the distance, Sophie calls them to dinner, and he leads her away.

They leave the ashes to their own devices.

Prompt: Paper

When Jem entered Will's room to inquire after some small thing, he noted—as if for the first time—all the paper scattered about the shelves. Books had always been scattered over Will's room, and clutter was no stranger either, but these individual pieces looked as if they'd been tossed, and so he could not help but pick up one and examine it.

_I am shut up in the dark and feel as if I have swallowed shattered glass for all my screaming, but they do not care, and before I know it, a bloody scrap of a dead man's cravat is in my hands and they are hollering in my ears that I Change. And I do. And I am inside out and not myself and then I AM that man. And I know what it is to be a gambler and a liar and feel the knife that killed him slice right through me. Oh, Nate… Please, God in Heaven—-_

"Jem?"

Jem dropped the letter as if it were a burning coal.

"Will? I was merely—excuse me, won't you?"

It pounded in his ears as he strode down the hallway. _You should not have done that_, and yet…

Tessa was in the nursery—or the room that would soon be Charlotte and Henry's nursery—and as Jem walked in and saw her comparing scraps of wallpaper with Charlotte and Cecily, he felt his heart lift, even as it continued to ache.

"And these ties—for the drapes? Don't you think, Charlotte? Lots of light would be good for the baby, er, at least I would hope so."

"Yes," Jem said, "Lots of light gives lots of freedom. And will make the place just that much more cheery. If nothing else, it's nice to see the rain falling."

Charlotte seemed to be of the same opinion, and placed the ties in her list of approved materials.

Tessa smiled at him as he took her hand.

And as he did, Charlotte began to drag Cecily away—muttering something about a pram of Henry's invention—and Jem reminded himself to find some small way to thank her later. The trust and privacy she had been affording him lately was both generous and borderline scandalous. But Charlotte knew what it was to be in love.

He could do more than take her hand when they were alone. He could cup her face between his hands—as he so often dreamed of doing—and he could run his thumb over her blushing cheek, tucking stray bits of hair behind her ears.

"If you ever want to tell me anything, you can."

He felt her tense a bit, and he sought the words to soothe her.

"I mean, if there's anything you want to tell anyone, I will listen. I—I had Will to carry through my harsher nights, but if worries… if nightmares… should plague you, you know that I am up late and you can come to me. Or—or you can call me to you. I'm only down the hall."

He felt her arms go about his waist then. Strong but trembling arms, with hands that played unthinkingly about his back, skimming over the threats of his waistcoat with a warmth that reached to his skin.

She looked up at him then, with those soft gray eyes as gentle as a mist drifting over a harbor, and relaxed. Her smile was sincere as she kissed him lightly, and faintly teasing as she drew back.

"I know. But James, you should be careful about tempting me with invitations to your room. People are more likely to notice now."

He blushed, but held her gaze. She was blushing too, and yet he knew that even as they both blushed, they were thinking of it. Of the fact that they were close now and could be close again so easily.

The next kiss was not so quick, and he wrapped his own arms about her as he sensed her hands winding through his hair. He whispered to her in Mandarin, as was becoming his tendency when he was not yet ready to say it so she'd understand.

_Let me cast out the darkness. I know you. No matter what form you wear, what others force on you, I see through it, and see you. They cannot touch you._

_You are Tessa, and I love you._


	4. Evening Refrains

Evening Refrains

It takes Jem a moment to realize why his heart suddenly feels so full when he steps into the Institute library.

He came searching for Church, but the room is dark, and the witchlight is low, so it's not a matter of what he sees that creates the feeling.

When he pauses, and breathes in slowly, it comes to him:

The subtle ticking has become like a mother's heartbeat. The Clockwork Angel is near, and where it is, so too is Tessa.

His own eyes confirm it when the witchlight's glow finally reveals her, fallen asleep in one of the claw-foot chairs.

He carefully removes Oliver Twist from her grasp. (He chuckles when he notices the way her fingers try to bookmark the page, even in her sleep.)

She doesn't seem to wake when he lifts her, or when he adjusts her in his arms, carrying her towards her own room.

The hallway is almost silent, yet he encounters Will just outside her door. His parabatai is fully dressed with hat in hand, only just preparing to head out for the night, but he pauses upon seeing Tessa.

Will's countenance—so sad and distant of late—seems to twist into a familiar wry smirk as he gazes upon Tessa and looks up.

"Up reading?" he mouths.

Jem nods, and they both share a silent laugh as her nose gives an unconscious wrinkle in the midst of sleep.

Will opens the door to her room as Jem turns through, careful not to catch her skirts in the frame.  
Will seems to pause in her room, as if uncertain of his welcome, and Jem wonders briefly if he's ever been invited inside it before.

But Will, ever vivacious soul, recovers quickly enough to turn down the covers of her bed as Jem lays her down.

Jem feels his cheeks burn as the silence creeps into everything and the obvious surfaces: she's too dressed for bed. The covers will catch on her boots. Her back will ache in the morning from the corset.

But his brother is—now and always—an expert at ignoring things that are inconvenient for him to notice. Instead, Will turns to her bedside table and runs his hands over the book on the mantle.

_Vathek_, from what Jem can see.

Will runs his finger over the bookmark at the center of the tome, and smiles, as though genuinely pleased at her progress in the story.

With that tiny bounce to his step, Will turns on his heel, and strides out the door.

Leaving Jem alone with his fiancée.

It is only then that Jem feels a gentle touch along his arm, and realizes that Tessa is more awake than he thought.

It's a rather intimate yet unhurried process, removing the boots, untying and unbuttoning the layers down to her chemise.

It's not entirely unlike that night in his room, and yet so very different. Desire lies biding its time under the surface rather than bubbling up into fevered action. But the trust… It remains in the way her eyes droop with sleepiness, the way she makes no attempt to hide her bare arms and calves.

And when Jem has the dress safely tucked away in her wardrobe, she reaches for him.  
And despite all his daylight reservations—all those promises to himself of chaperones and good behavior—he slides easily into Tessa's bed, already warm from the heat of her body.

He'd already complied in his heart long before she'd whispered the word "Stay," in his ear.

Her soft breath tickles the hair at his neck, and the very thinness of shirt and shift makes itself known as her soft frame aligns with his. Her legs tangling with his own shouldn't feel as familiar as it does, but there it is.

As her breathing slows and evens, Jem feels that growing sense of peace flow over him.

"Wán bèi."

The whole world is perfect at the moment, burning veins and tired limbs included.

And as the cares of drugs and demons leave him in lieu of sleepy darkness, Jem Carstairs listens.

A triune rhythm forms the lullabye.

Her heartbeat, his own, and the subtle whirring of a mechanical guardian.

It's the music of angels.


	5. Hidden Perches

Hidden Perches

She remembers the first time she saw Jem like this, scurrying like an agile cat in the rafters while Gabriel prepared for their first training lesson. She'd been so surprised—a good kind—that she'd just watched and tried to take it in.

But there's something about it now—the way Gideon doesn't know he's there, the way Sophie doesn't seem to have noticed either, the way that it's just a secret between the two of them—that keeps Tessa on her toes.

She can't glance up for long, only a moment, but it's enough to see him press a finger to his lips, requesting her silence with a smile.

The lightness of his hair and skin contrast starkly with the jet-black shadowhunter armor, and it lets her keep him in the corner of her eye as Gideon mutters something about knives in Spanish.

Tessa finds herself impatient for when the lesson will be over.

Perhaps it has something to do with the way Jem's smile seems to hold a certain promise.

A decision to not be entirely proper today.

A day without chaperones. (Though they never did decide if they wanted one at all.)

And when Gideon and Sophie finally leave—more than a little lost in each other, she notes—Tessa stands at the center and smiles.

A rope descends in front of her, and she recalls the illustrations from one of her favorite childhood books—an etch of Robin Hood gallantly swinging from a vine.

Jem is not woodcut-handsome like the Robin of her picturebook. He is slim movement and grace encased in a silver shadow. And while his smile is more shy, it is far more intimate and instead of sweeping her off her feet like some fairy tale princess, he instead crooks a finger and beckons her upward.

And Tessa feels that brush of adventure again and she climbs to meet him. Jem has always understood her desire to experience things for herself.

As Tessa sits in the rafters and looks down, she is struck by the scene. For she could truly be a fly on the wall like this, a secret purveyor of the world below.

As the thought fills her, she turns and sees the satisfied smile on her fiance's face.

Fiance. There are some hard thoughts that she struggles with still, but she is getting more and more used to the thought every day.

Tessa reminds herself that this means many things. It means that there is truly no reason why she shouldn't reach for him in that moment. Reach for him, kiss him, and perhaps even sigh into his mouth while doing it.

Remember every instant that that she looked over her shoulder, expecting Jem to be right beside her. Every gentle hand upon her arm, guiding her to some newly-discovered corner of London that she'd only thought she'd ever read about.

And as Jem's hand tightens on her hip, and a slight helpless moan falls from his lips, Tessa smiles in her own bit of triumph.

As the training room door bursts open, they break apart.

And as Henry scuttles about, searching for some metal part on the weapon maintenance rack, Jem and Tessa grin and shake their heads at each other.

For there in the rafters, they are each other's secret once more.


	6. Disparaging Remarks

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the reviews, guys!

Done for the tumblr prompt: "Will is put into a situation in which he defends Jem and Tessa as a couple."

* * *

It was merely an inn. Not a posh place. Even the occasional iffrit was permitted inside on occasion. But loose tongues were loose tongues, and Will had suffered the last straw of Jasper Blackthorn's blathering two tables away.

"And while I suppose it's all well and good that he's found a woman to share in the fantasy, the Clave's never gonna let a nephilim tie the knot with some warlock topher-"

"Don't. You. Dare."

"Oi, Herondale. Don't tell me they let you in—"

Will's fist managed to cut the idiot's tirade short.

Will didn't think about the hypocrisy. He did not think of the lewd offer he'd made to Tessa so many months ago, or any of his cruel reminders of her barren state or lower status. He did not think of all the skeptical views on courtship he's spouted to Jem in any given unguarded moment.

The only thing Will thought of as his knuckles bruised the man's face and his teeth sunk into his bicep, was the joy in Jem's eyes when he told his parabatai that he had fallen in love. The way Tessa clutched Jem's arm as they told everyone of their engagement. The happiness mixed with a growing apprehension on both their faces as they waited in the silence for a single person to congratulate them.

"The wedding," Smack! "… shall be an elegant affair…" Crunch! "… and if you so much as dare to show your face…"

Blackthorn had brought cousins. _Wonderful_.

"… you will congratulate them. And tell them that they are the most noble groom and beautiful bride.." They'd grabbed him from behind. The cowards. "… that you've ever beheld in your miserable life!"

They might have succeeded in throwing him out of the in (and straight into a carriage horse's trough), but Will knew his point had been made known.

He had a man's tooth wedged under his skin to prove it.

f.i.n.


	7. Ketchup, Consolation, Inevitable Passing

**AN**: Thanks for the reviews guys! Lately, I've felt like posting more ficlets than usual at once (More to read, but I figure if you guys are here in the first place, you're not gonna mind...) This being the case, I figured I'd at least stick to a theme. For today: Tessa in the future!

* * *

**Prompt: Magnus & Tessa, ketchup**

They'd promised to rescue each other when this happened.

She still remembers when Magnus found her on the train tracks. She'd been wandering listlessly after visiting Will and Jem's adjacent grave sites. She hadn't cared whether a train came or not. Whether it crushed her under the charging wheels or not. But Magnus had found her, grasped her arm, and pulled her away to a place of shelter, food, and sympathetic quiet. She's still not sure if it took ten years or ten days before she returned to the world of the living. She suspects some time inbetween.

But as she stares across the cold plastic table at a wrecked Warlock thoughtlessly twiring a drooping french fry in a puddle of sticky red as he stares off into an unseen space, she wishes she'd payed more attention to everything he did for her. So she would know how to do the same.

When Magnus finally breaks the silence, she startles, and tries not to show it.

"You know, Alec had such a love-hate relationship with these things…"

Tessa nods, terrified to interrupt.

"The flavor. He loved the flavor. But the salt and the grease… he'd always forget to grap a napkin, and wrinkle his nose upon realizing he should go fetch one. He'd check to see if anyone was looking… and then just use the edge of his sleave. So self-concious. As if people would care about the edge of his shirt sleave…"

More silence.

"And the health-hazard. He always felt like such a hypocrite… simply for indulging…"

Tessa holds her breath the moment Magnus finally nibbles on the end. And something in his eyes tells her that if he tastes anything, it is only the salt and the grease.

Silence. Silence till she thinks she might choke on it.

"Thank you, Tessa."

A squeak of surprise. She didn't mean to, but…

"For picking me up, so I did not simply continue to lie there eternally."

She feels a blush of shame come over her cheeks. She knows this thanks is more than she ever did for him when… when it was her turn.

So with all the grace she can muster, she lifts her head away from the half-dried ketchup and the tasteless dried sticks. She meets his eyes and simply tells him,

"Anything for a friend."

* * *

**Prompt: Tessa/Simon, consolation**

"That is the longest time I've ever spent as a rat."

"As opposed to all the other times?"

"Yes."

"Well, if you'd told me to expect you at Magnus's party, I would have certainly warned you about the warlock powders. I've had some rather humiliating experiences with them myself."

Simon sighed.

"I didn't even get a consolation prize this time."

Tessa raised her brow. If Simon's vampire biology would have let him blush, he would've. It was clear that he was unconsciously doing the equivalent, almost wishing he hadn't said anything.

"I… Clary picked me up and put me in her jacket pocket. Her… breast pocket. I always complained about the rodent thing, but that part was… nice."

Tessa chuckled.

"Understandable, I'm sure."

Simon straightened his shoulders and offered his arm. She took it, and nodded her head as they headed for the exit. The party had grown stale ages ago, well before Simon had taken the journey to a fury existence and back again.

Tessa hugged his arm to her side, drawing him closer. When he still looked away, she finally drew her finger under his chin, turning his face to look her in the eye.

"Don't despair yet. You may be too big to fit into my pocket, Mr. Lewis, but I think I can arrange some sort of compensation for you tonight. You have yet to dance with me after all, and I think I'd rather enjoy that prize in the comfortable privacy of either your apartment or mine."

It had been hours since she'd seen that smile, but it was finally back, and adorned his face with a youthful giddiness that defied his immortal years.

It was every bit as adorable as any rat's nose wiggle…

… and considerably more _enticing_.

* * *

**Prompt: Will/Tessa/Jem, haunted**

The vice around her heart is too tight for her to care if they are real or not. When she blinks and catches the merest glance of Will's curling black hair out of the corner of her eye, she starts. Every fiber of her body coming alive the way her very soul has not for the past two hundred years. Will has always been the first to catch attention, but once she breathes deeply and sits still, she can feel Jem's presence like a tangible warmth against her back.

She goes to the nearest library, a place of quiet and dry dust—and among the shadowy stacks she finds Vathek, Byron, and A Tale of Two Cities. There are marks on the pages. Scrawled attempts at mediocre poetry in the first, circling of beloved passages in the second, and bookmarking rips at every page pertaining to Sydney Carton in the third. The ancient books smell of ancient books—as well they should—but they also cary the faintest essence of holy water and blood.

She finds a window seat corner and curls against it, leaning her head against the window. The pane is cold against her ear, but even as she flinches, she pulls closer. Music drifts through. A sidewalk performer with a gift for Bach. The tang of burnt sugar mixes with the mustiness of fragile paper. She closes her eyes and swears that she feels long thin fingers entwining with her hand, brushing her thigh… Endearments whisper through her mind. Gentle, joyous, and ultimately passionate, an interwoven symphony of Mandarin and her native tongue.

She never opens her eyes. Rather, she chooses to let the reality before her slip away, and at once, she can see those sharp blue eyes she has missed so long and so well. Her fingers run through silken silver, and runes surround her in all the glory of their mystic ink and half-healed flesh.

All at once, Tessa Gray is home.


	8. A Valentine's Spirit in a Halloween Time

**Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! I'm sorry that I kept several of you waiting, but I do plan to post more often, and to eventually write some more Au-verse drabbles as well as canon ones. Till then, enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Church, Jem/Tessa, Agitated**

It was early morning when Church hopped onto the side table and looked down on his white-haired human's bed; He had intended to wake up the gentle-voiced male so that the feeding could commence, but seeing him curled up and tangled in the brown hair of his gray-eyed mate, Church paused and allowed them a single moment of peace... before meowing and demanding sustenance.

**Henry, Jem/Tessa, Prudent**

Though not the most observant of men, Henry did notice that Jem tended to use items involving jade quite a bit, so when he gave him a stone-polishing device as a wedding gift, he made sure to include the _truly_ useful thing, which was the note attached,

"I know you will take good care of all that shines in your life. Just remember to tell her you love her. Every day of every year. Apparently even the smartest of women must be told these things. -Henry."

**Jem/Tessa, Breakfast**

Tessa was sad when she came down to breakfast and found that both Jem and Will were gone, off to investigate. But when Sophie handed her a letter, she felt excitement bubble up as she caught the scent of wood musk and sweetness, and inside, she found a line of chinese characters and a composition of musical notes. It was a promise for later. A translation meant for her ears alone. A song for when she and Jem were together. She held it tightly and began to plan her own gift in turn.

**Henry/Charlotte, Wonder**

It's inspiring, this sudden knowledge that Charlotte loves him and has loved him all along. So when some of Jem's violin notes drift to their room, Henry asks his newly pregnant wife to dance with him. Charlotte smiles and complies. He holds her till the notes run out, and long after that. She doesn't even say anything when he steps on her toes.

**Will & Jem, Unseemly Self-education**

Most of the time, it's merely for show. Will dons his hat and steps out into the night with precisely zero intention of partaking of anything ignominious at all. But sometimes it's real. Sometimes he truly does find himself in a den of iniquity, watching the web-footed warlock woman onstage remove her clothing one petticoat at a time. And less often, but sometimes, he takes Jem with him.

And usually, when he does, it's frightfully anticlimactic. At most, his parabatai might blush at some of what he sees. But for the most part, while Will laps up the scandal like a kitten with cream, Jem merely acts as if it were another day at the park. Says hello to the ruffians. Politely thanks the serving maids that show too much bosom a-purpose. And waits. Ever so patiently. As if he were a parent indulging a child run rampant in a candy shop. Will thinks he hates that, but it's not so bad really.

Even after all that's happened, Will still expects things to be as they were. And when he drags Jem to red-lit house of devilry, he expects Jem to casually take a seat and leave him to his own devices.

But this time, it's different. This time, his brother is paying attention. He actually watches the women on stage, and truly talks to the maids with the drinks. When they tell Jem the things they want to do to him, he does not brush them off as is usual, instead, he turns to face them, and asks them outright,

"Would you? Would you really enjoy that? It sounds uncomfortable but…"

And at once, Will feels his own cheeks turn brilliant red as the woman and his parbatai begin a most frighteningly open discussion on what—precisely—occurs between female appendages.

Will thinks for a moment that Jem might be possessed, but as he watches, he'd swear that Jem is taking notes.

As they leave, Will tugs at his own hair. He did not wish to be the one to say it. To bring it up. But this whole night has been impossible.

"Engaged, Jem! I know we were skirting propriety by coming here, but you—you—you are to be married in a fortnight's time—!"

"Yes, Will. I know. I simply sought advice. That was all."

"Advice? What—"

Will puts two and twice together, wishing he had not.

"By the Angel."

Jem turns around, leaning on his cane like a gentleman truly beyond both their years.

"And Will? I would have you, er, not mention any of this to Tessa if you would be so kind."

Somehow, despite all struggles, Will finds his tongue.

"No. Of course not. She'll never—"

"I'll tell her myself when the time arrives."

And Will is then struck dumb and so completely still, that it is only Jem's guiding hand on his shoulder that allows him to find the carriage bound for home.

It is later, when the shock subsides, that he finds himself wishing he had paid better attention to the conversation…

…

For education's sake.


	9. In Darkness Imperfected

**A/N**: I. Am. Terrible. At. Updating. I don't even have a proper excuse. I do apologize. But here, have some Jem/Tessa fluff...

* * *

Tessa's eye were blurring. She was looking through papers—records—on Charlotte's behalf, while the head of the Institute subjected her newly-swollen feet to Henry's even newer foot-massage machine designed especially for his wife. There were no chairs in the records room, so Tessa lay most casually and improperly stretched out along the floor, surrounded by leatherbound written word and loose reciepts.

But between the tiny print and the witchlight, Tessa was drawing towards the end of her patience, until she felt cool hands with deft, long fingers covering her eyes. A gentle whisper breathed away the loose wisps of hair about her ear.

"As much as I do love to see you with a book in your hand, reading so intently as you do, I can't imagine 'Shipment Records of London' giving you a thrilling time."

Tessa sighed, and after a moment's responsible hesitation, leaning back.

The darkness around her eyes was soothing, and she could smell cedar, violin wax, and a sharp sweetness from his jacket as Jem's arms folded around her.

"I assure you, it's giving me a very thrilling headache."

She felt the the way his amused chuckle moved in his chest, and felt that puff of air against her ear once more.

"I'm going to eliminate the witchlight. Try to keep your eyes closed. It will help."

Even with his hands over her eyes, she sensed the green glow dim down to nothing, but with her eyes still shut tight, his hands moved away, from her face to her temple. And there, he began to rub.

Tessa felt like a puppet with her last frayed string finally snapped, and she sagged against him, reveling in relief from a pain so subtle that she had not truly noticed it until he had eased it.

"Will loving you always be like that?" she murmured, almost to herself.

"…"

She knew from the way his grip tightened on the word "always" that he had been thinking of the future, and his thoughts had driven him right back to that moment, to escape.

Tessa opened her eyes. She did not wait for them to adjust before turning and kissing him, letting the paper around them crumple up like one of Jessamine's hats as they leaned back onto the rug along the wooden floor.

She pulled back, and her eyes finally focused on his lips, still parted from her kiss even as she saw his eyes opening and smiling up at her from behind their thin veil of silver.

"Yóng yuǎn."

Tessa nodded and reached up to wrap her arms more tightly around him.

The grin her gave her elicited a promise to herself.

That she would kiss him soundly until every paper about them was crumpled.

Nay, illegible.


	10. One Night Alive

The pulse is throughout his body, but he feels it in his ears the most. He ran out of arrows half a minute ago, and his arm begins to tremble as it holds his sword-cane aloft, cutting a path. Jem is a shadowhunter. He'll fight with what he has, even if he'd rather have his bow and be twenty paces back.

He's not afraid to see the demons faces. He just hates when they're fast enough to evade the blade and come in close. What Jem really hates is being_held down_.

_Jian! Jian! Wǒ de bǎobèi!_

He can smell the shax breath, but in the same instant, he smells its blood as Will's throwing knife flies into its left eye.

"Now, now. You're an engaged man, James. You can't go kissing random strangers like that. It's frightfully unseemly."

Jem breathes as best his body will allow and smiles. HIs own boot knife finishes off the final cur.

"I'd say we've successfully deterred all other advances. Thank the angel I've got you to keep me honest."

He may not be clear on why, but he can't help but notice the jibe makes Will look as if he's swallowed a lemon whole.

The night is quiet as they amble back to Cyril and the carriage.

Jem thinks of Tessa, his shoulders twitching, already waiting to feel her arms about him. He thinks of the kiss and the not-goodbye that has become their custom, and how every night fashions itself as a gamble, threatening to be the last.

Demons within and without always coming within a hair's breadth.

"Will?"

"Hmm?"

His parabatai seems distracted with the moon, and far-away thoughts, but with a single word his attention is caught, his eyes focussed and clear.

"I love you, brother."

"Jem?"

"An impromptu time to mention it, I know. But I do."

Jem is used to people staring into his eyes that way. Looking not for sincerity, but for a sign of the drug's work, for the dilation and the silver, worriedly searching for the doors of death. He's used to it, though he hates that everyone does it. But Will is the easiest to forgive.

"And I love you. As my own soul, Jem."

Jem feels his own face stretch freely into a grin once more and he takes in the smoke and the fog and the dirty alleyway of London he's come to know so well. He can hear the horses in the distance and feel the very nearness of home.

It's good to be alive.


	11. Strings

**A/N**: finally getting around to uploading tumblr works again. Hoping it will help break my writers block. Enjoy, guys.

* * *

"Tessa, I feel better. I promise."

Tessa frowned, but restrained her hand from reaching up to touch his forehead. She knew how tired Jem grew of that gesture, preferring to be taken at his word.

"Will said you weren't well enough to go to the Clave meeting with the rest."

"I… I may have been exaggerating."

"Exaggerating?"

He held her gaze, but his face flushed, moving from pale to unmistakable pink.

"A little… or a lot."

Tessa blinked, and began to put the pieces together. Since nearly everyone was going to the meeting, Charlotte had declared a servant's day off. Sophie was with Gideon, and Cyril and Bridget—by some strange reckoning—had gone off to a fair with each other. She and Jem were alone. Completely alone. And Jem had carefully arranged it. Tessa felt her own cheeks grow pink.

* * *

The flush extended down his neck as she peppered it with kisses. His long fingers were tangled in her undone hair, and Tessa wondered distantly how Jessamine's sense of observation wouldn't even be needed to infer Tessa's activities from her appearance now.

She looked down and saw Jem equally disheveled and smiling, staring up at her through silver strands. Her finger traced the rune extending from neck to clavicle. His jacket and waistcoat were strewn somewhere near the foot of the bed, and Tessa's shawl lay in a similar state on the floor.

She felt Jem shift underneath her, and vaguely sensed his leg brushing against her skirts. Her many skirts. Underneath a dress that required a good five minutes to fasten and unfasten. Tessa sighed.

"This… this was easier in nightclothes."

"Ah. But it would be far too easy to get carried way in nightclothes."

Tessa's eyelids lowered as her lips pinched together.

"Yes, because that is exactly why you arranged this. Us. Alone. Together. So we would NOT get carried away. I see."

Jem turned, and Tessa let the swish of those infernal skirts resound in her ears as Jem braced himself above her. His expression was hesitant, but he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"It… it would make sense to get changed. I could say I never planned to get out of bed. You could say you were tired and planning on turning in early. So long as we're in different rooms when they return… it wouldn't be suspicious necessarily…"

"Necessarily," Tessa repeated, feeling a resolve she hadn't bothered to fortify slip away even further. His whisper against her ear ended in a slow kiss between her neck and shoulder, and she felt herself turn—

REOWR!

—right onto the cat.

"Church!" Tessa felt an insubstantial swat against her petticoat—an ineffectual scratch and watched as an irascible cloud of fluff hissed at her from the top of the pile of pillows.

Jem laughed.

"I can't plan for everything, it seems. It appears we're not as alone as we supposed."

"Should we… feed him?"

Jem shook his head.

"I did feed him an hour ago. If I indulge him every time he asks, he'll be too corpulent to escape Will's wrath."

Tessa nodded before reaching out to grab the edge of Jem's collar once more. If he could ignore the purring coming from direction of the headboard, so could she. But no sooner had she returned to kissing him, than she felt an itchy feathery sensation flick at her nose.

"Church!" Jem's voice grew exasperated. Tessa looked up and saw that the feeling had been caused by a gray Persian tail waving about their heads like Sophie's dust mop.

Tessa sighed, "He's bored."

Jem frowned, "He's far from bored. He knows exactly what he's doing."

Tessa watched as her fiance rolled off the bed. She saw the pattern of bold runes through his thin shirt, and felt a twinge of disappointment as he walked to the opposite side of the room.

"Let's see. I believe I… ah! Here!"

It was a tiny and sad-looking ball of yarn. It looked as if it has been rescued from some dusty corner of Charlotte's unused sewing basket, but nonetheless, Church's head perked up, and his tail began to twitch from side to side. Still, Tessa remained unsure.

"Is it really that likely to keep him away? It doesn't precisely scream 'hours of enjoyment' I'm afraid."

"This is not the hook, wo de xin ai, only the bait. Come with me."

They tiptoed together down the hall as Church padded beside them. Tessa paused when she realized where they were: the door of Will's room.

"He won't forgive you."

"He won't know for sure."

For her first month or so of living at the institute, Tessa thought perhaps that Jem and Will did not play tricks on each other. That Jem was above such things, and Will had made his parabatai an exception in that as well. But now, Tessa knew better. Will only made Jem exempt on occasion. And Jem's only rule regarding tomfoolery was to not get caught.

"He's going to claw the bookshelves again."

"I know."

"And he may even… urinate on some of the books Will keeps scattered about."

"Charlotte told him to clean his room."

Tessa paused, biting her lip to withold a grin.

"You're merciless."

At once, she felt warm again, and he was pressed against her and against the wall.

"Do you mind?"

Tessa shook her head.

"No."

* * *

Tessa turned in her bed. She had only retired twenty minutes before, with the sweet memory of Jem's kisses at her neck once more, and his caress on her arms. And now, she could hear the gate opening, followed by the footsteps of the returning shadowhunters.

She waited. And then she heard a muffled string of cursing ending in clarity—

"—DEVIL CAT! JEM! JAMES! DON'T YOU DARE PRETEND TO BE ASLEEP—"

Tessa allowed her own lips to form a diabolical smile before turning over and surrendering to the land of dreams.


End file.
